"We're a lot alike," Clyde said after a while.
"Are we?"
"Don't you think so?"
"I don't know," she said, looking away from him, thinking that it would be nice to go on forever walking in the sunset like this.
"Where do you live?"
"Down here," she said vaguely.
"Oh."
They walked on, passed a pond almost covered with lilies that were opened out, in white and yellow bloom: passed a banyan tree, where miniature turtle doves had gathered to coo softly for night; over a small wood bridge spanning a stream of clear hurtling waters.
"... You started school here just last year, didn't you?"
She swallowed down the tenseness in her throat. "Yes ... I came from ... the East." She knew that she should have said it more glibly, but the words seemed to clog in her throat.